


String Theory

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Community: kbl-reversebang, Demons, Elves, F/F, Foreign Language, Gen, M/M, Magic-Users, Soulmates, kblreversebang2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Klaine Reversebang 2014</p><p>Being an Elf is not easy every day, particularly when you have to follow a talkative Mage. But meeting this Bard may change everything and put Kurt on the path he has been looking for …</p>
            </blockquote>





	String Theory

* * *

 

At the origin of all things, of the Worlds themselves, there was Balance.

Balance between the String particles and the _Sheket_ , the Music and the Silence which only enhances it - the Nothingness that gives sense to Everything.

Ever since Life has appeared on Earth, humans, demons, elves and Talents look for that balance - some by training, some by helping their fellow Earthlings.

And some - some find it through Love.

—-

 

“Rise and shi-ine!”

Kurt buries his head deeper under what passes for a pillow in this dump with a loud groan of protest.

“Kurt, I know you’re awake.”

Maybe he can stall a little more, just a little more …

“I thought Elves didn’t need to sleep as much as us mere humans. Are you turning more human, Kurt?”

Rachel’s voice - and her half-veiled insult - breaks through the cotton, through the feathers, through Kurt’s focus to keep her at bay.

Then again, Rachel’s voice cuts through most things - that’s her Talent.

Kurt hates Talented humans, especially smaller than average females who have decided to spend their allowance money on their very own token Immortal to be more fashionable.

Not that he’s thinking of anybody in particular.

“Kuuuurt,” Rachel whines, plopping herself next to Kurt and using her Staff to brush his hair away from his face.

With a sleepy but strong grip no matter how tired he is - there is nothing Kurt can do about his strength - Kurt pushes the staff away from his face.

He knows Rachel enough by now to know that with the young Mage, a _Shir_ spell is all too easily fired.

“I’m up, I’m up,” Kurt groans, flicking his fingers to brush his hair back into place. “Do you have to be so annoying so early in the day?”

Rachel gasps, as if shocked that Kurt would not welcome her wake-up call, and she storms out, letting her staff trail noisily on the ground - as she has done for the past weeks since she bought Kurt’s services as a bodyguard and companion.

What a waste of his training.

As he gets out of bed, Kurt performs his morning routine of skincare and stretching, and his mind jumps to memories of his younger years.

To think, Kurt has been trained to be a Royal guard of the Broadening Way - not a little human’s pet.

Oh, he knows that his fate is better than most of his Brothers could ask for in this realm : Rachel treats him like a friend, not like an employee, he can practice his craft, and he still has his precious armor and his bow.

But sometimes, particularly in the morning, Kurt misses the moments of Silence, the _Sheket_ that brings spells and balance to life - the source of the true power of the Elves.

Kurt sighs as he puts his chestguard on top of his clothes, clasping it carefully over his left shoulder.

There, now he is ready to face the day, and their journey to the City of Halom - maybe there he will find his true path.

—-

“Blaine, get up.”

Blaine grunts, clutching his pillow closer to his chest.

“Blaine, by Crowley’s sulfur, if you don’t get your bubble butt out of this bed this instant, I swear that I will burn your harp and shove your flute up —”

“Not a flute,” Blaine mumbles, but he does sit up and rubs his sleepy eyes. The _Asbeel_ is not to be upset, and she gets upset far too easily. “Why do you stay and bother me? You’re free from your oath to my family, you have been free from it ever since my grandmother died!”

Santana shushes him with a flicked flame towards him. “Because you’re fun, Blainey-poo.”

Blaine rolls his eyes fondly at the demon, uselessly batting his hands at the sparkly flame. “I’m fun to play with and annoy, I suppose?”

Santana rolls on the now vacant bed, flames gone but her horns digging dangerously into the soft mattress. “You have no idea.”

As he puts his harp on his back, Blaine carefully attaches his staff to his belt. He has managed to reduce its size, making it traveling-friendly, and the last thing he needs is for a brusque gesture to send a spell going around.

His level of raw powers and no training - his own choice, granted - is a bad, bad combination.

“Come on,” he says, petting the demon’s hair between her massive ram horns to make her happy. “We have a long road ahead of us.”

Behind him, he’s pretty sure Santana mumbles something about the journey not needing to be so long if he would just “man up” and use his “fucking baton”, but the fact that Blaine didn’t go through the Mages training is not without consequences, even if he doesn’t regret it.

That’s not what he wants to do, that’s not how he wants to live his life.

He doesn’t want to use his Magic for personal gain : all he wants to do is …

“Make music and art and help people, I know,” Santana says, sashaying next to him. “Boring-o!”

“You love it,” Blaine says, bumping their shoulders together with a smile.

Santana doesn’t reply anything, but the shadow of a smile on her face is enough for Blaine to know that he’s right.

The demon just loves to help people, even if she doesn’t want anybody to know it. Besides, they do make a good team at “making art and helping people”, their personalities balancing each other : Santana keeps Blaine from being too nice and too gullible for his own good, and he keeps her from being too harsh for everybody’s good.

Besides, Blaine’s talent at telling stories - born from his imagination or from the news that travel through the country - and Santana’s abilities to give them a physical, if ephemeral, representation make them usually successful enough that they can afford the best rooms available in the inns they meet on their path.

Their path to where, Blaine isn’t sure yet. But all things considered, his situation could be worse - as well as his choice of a traveling companion.

—-

All he asked for was ten minutes of silence to recharge his batteries in the Sun that graces the sky today.

That’s all he asked for.

With a sigh, Kurt turns to face Rachel, who has the decency to look sheepish when she finds him looking at her, twirling his fingers in the air to freeze the fire she lightened up with her staff.

“What did we say about C-sharp minors?” he asks, tapping his foot to the ground in an effort to contain his anger at the young Mage. “You know better, Rachel.”

“I do know better!” she protests immediately, only to look back to sheepish when Kurt puts his hands on his waist. “I thought that this time it would work!”

Kurt takes a deep breath and counts to seven. “Why this time in particular?” he asks in spite of himself, a treacherous part of his brain genuinely curious. Rachel is many things, but reckless isn’t one of them; if she decided to reach for that particular Note, there must be a good reason.

The young Mage seems to look for the right words, biting on her lower lip nervously before taking a firmer hold of her staff, her eyes firmly on Kurt.

“There is a shift in the _Conbrio_ ,” she says, and Kurt can only nod - he felt it too, like another Talent has entered a predetermined perimeter that they didn’t know of. “I thought that it would allow me more control, but,” she sighs, “I was wrong.”

Kurt looks around them, at the open road ahead of them and the flower fields on both sides of it. No one seems to be approaching - that fact alone is something he needs to commit to memory and send to his Elders, wherever they are : that a shift of magical energy can be felt at more than nine miles of distance - but he keeps his bow loaded with a regular arrow. You never know, and Kurt isn’t one to take chances with … chances.

“Let’s keep walking,” he says, keeping his eyes on their surroundings, and for once, Rachel doesn’t protest, reattaching her staff to her back and slipping her feet back in her shoes.

The thing is, the longer they walk, the stronger the shift feels in the magic that surrounds them, in the very fabric of the Talent network of energies, and it makes Kurt wonder who is causing it.

It’s exciting - and more than a little troubling, in the way it’s affecting him.

But for now, they’ll settle in Grieg for a little while.

—-

Santana seems on edge, and Blaine doesn’t have it in him to appease her.

He can feel something shifting around them, as they walk towards the next city - Blaine should be able to remember exactly what city it is, he has the whole country memorized, but ever since they got on the road this morning, he is unable to focus.

His powers, as raw as they are, seem electrified, like there is something mirroring them somewhere around them, and it puts him on edge.

Santana tried a couple of spells, locating ones and protecting ones, but they all came back to her empty handed, so to speak. As a result, the demon walks closer to Blaine’s side, her hand finding his as they reach the city walls.

It’s not often that Santana lets Blaine see this softer side of her personality, and as much as Blaine could use it as ammunition for the next time she feels like teasing him, he knows that she must feel truly unbalanced to act the way she is.

No studies have ever been conducted to determine the relationship between _Asbeels_ ' powers and the _Conbrio_ itself, but Blaine’s friendship with Santana - spanning over years - gives him a fairly educated guess on the subject, provided that Santana is a typical specimen of her demonic class, which Blaine is not entirely convinced of.

And Blaine, as much as he tries to deny it, loves her too much - and additionally, for as long as he can remember - to deny her his support.

“Come on, Tana,” he says softly as the Hunter guarding the city gates lets them through, “We’ll settle down in a Inn - it’s your turn to pick,” he adds with a soft smile, “and you’ll rest before we go out to eat and dance - I’ll be your wingman?”

Santana looks up at that offer and smiles back at Blaine. “You are a good wingman,” she replies, “better than your brother and your grandfather.”

Blaine starts preening, but Santana snorts. “But not as good as your great aunt.”

With an eyeroll that is strong enough to give him the beginning of a headache, Blaine pushes the door to “Anitra’s Inn” and holds it for Santana. “Spare me the details - I’m begging you.”

—-

While Rachel takes a bath - with a cake she conjured from the stale piece of bread she had in her bag, Gods know why - Kurt tries to focus.

Usually, when they are in a big-ish city like Grieg, resting in a subpar inn, Kurt is restless, unable to find his center, and much less to surround himself with _Sheket_.

The fact that he’s standing at the window, mind completely clear for the first time in months, magic bursting at his fingertips like he used to be when he was younger and in the Elves’ realm, is mind-blowing and more than a little bit frightening.

It’s like a moment of clarity in the midst of chaos, and Kurt doesn’t understand where it comes from.

He’s an Elf, a talented warrior, a trained one at that, but even he couldn’t reach that level of …

Kurt gasps and closes his eyes.

That type of balance can only come from one source, and it doesn’t help with the panic building in his mind.

Ever since he left his Father’s realm, Kurt never expected to find his Match - but all evidences point in that direction.

“Kurt, are you alright?”

Blinking, Kurt turns away from the window to look at Rachel. The Mage is wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, her staff in hand and the cake floating next to her.

“I …,” Kurt starts, and finally shakes his head. “I don’t know, Rachel,” he admits, and Rachel hums, flicking the staff. The remains of the cake turn into a cheesecake, with a pool of raspberry compote next to it, and Kurt can only smile at his companion.

“There you go,” Rachel says softly, putting her hand on his forearm. “Nothing can’t be cured by a cheesecake.”

Usually, Kurt would reply that she is taking, once again, her wishes for reality, but there is no denying that that cheesecake is delicious and that, for a little while - for as long as the cake lasts - he does feel better about the turmoil shaking him to his core.

—-

Santana is lying on the only bed in the room they managed to get with Blaine’s last salary, but Blaine doesn’t mind it.

For one, the demon truly looks frail, like the shift they’re experiencing is affecting her more than him.

And for second …

Even if he knows that Santana isn’t human and isn’t supposed to expect a special treatment from the humans she serves, Blaine has been taught to respect women and to give them the best he could manage.

And for third, Santana is his friend and she is in need, so he can sleep in the armchair next to the window.

And for fourth - Blaine can’t even fathom the idea of sleeping now.

When his Talent bursted out of his younger self, he instinctively knew that his powers couldn’t be channeled the usual way, that training would be useless in his case.

His head was too full of notes, of random ones that had neither rhyme nor reason - too much chaos to channel it into something useful.

Blaine had taken the basic lessons, of course, to learn how to use the staff that was delivered on his parents’ doorsteps, just enough to give him enough control over his Talent that he wouldn’t make, say, a pretzel cart explode just because he felt like humming - totally random situation - but when the Maestros had hinted that he should take an advanced course to get him on the Mage path, Blaine had firmly but politely declined.

As far as Blaine is concerned, and his opinion is built on the evidence of his brother, Mages don’t care about the well-being of the people around them, and they tend to treat those without Talent or those who are different or aren’t humans with disdain - in the best of cases.

Thus his decision to leave the Academy to use his Talent as a simple Bard, providing music and support to those who crossed his path.

But no amount of self-improvement and self-training - and staying away from trained Mages and apprentices to avoid Dissonances - has allowed him to organize the notes in his head, to turn his personal hubbub into a Melody that could echo through the world, and Blaine had resigned himself to this state of things.

Until now, and that’s exactly the thing that’s keeping him awake.

Ever since they settled in the Inn, the shift in the Ligatures, in the very roots of the _Conbrio_ , is stronger than it was on the road, its effect spectacular in Blaine’s case.

It feels like someone took the notes and beats bouncing in his mind and made sense of it.

It’s all clear in his mind, like a wind bell chime - no, more like a rhythmic snare drum inside his head, making sense of his existence, of his purpose, of the Magic around him.

Listening to the drumming and to the melody following it, Blaine looks at Santana but it’s not his attractive companion who is lying on the bed : it’s her true form, skin covered in red scales and wings moving with her quiet breathing while sparks surround her hands.

Blaine blinks a couple of times, turning his attention to the streets two storeys below, and the same oddity happens : regular humans look like they’re shining, but Mages, recognizable at their staffs, Talented humans and extra-human beings — they glow like walking suns, their powers obvious to Blaine’s eyes.

What is going on with his Talent? Gods, he needs to get away.

“Santana, I’m off - I’ll be back soon, alright?”

“Mmmph.”

—-

**_I ran to the towers_ **

**_Where the church bells chime_ **

**_I hoped that they would clear my mind_ **

After a quick supper - eaten more out of self-preservation than hunger -, Kurt leaves the Inn’s dining room for a walk in the city’s loopy streets. The cobblestone under his feet, the irregularity of it gives him something to focus on, and he welcomes the distraction with open arms.

He is not worried about Rachel being lonely or getting in trouble : she found a nice looking fellow - one that a quick analysis through his waves had revealed to be shallow, sure, but intrinsically good - and Kurt needed to get away.

Away from the Inn, away from the crowd, away from whatever is disturbing him.

Kurt winces and rolls his eyes at himself.

In all honesty, he can’t say that he’s really disturbed - it’s quite the opposite, and it’s that peace of mind that is disturbing him.

The cobblestones turn to dirt, and as Kurt looks up, he realizes that he has left the inner perimeter of the city, and that he is now walking around the first ring of walls protecting it.

Around him there are fewer houses and more official buildings : schools, Ministries, temples - to Kurt’s delight and surprise, there is even an Elvish Tower.

Without it being a fully conscious act, Kurt lets his feet taking him to the top of the Tower - getting some perspective on all the levels can only be helpful.

—-

**_They left a ringing in my ear_ **

**_But that drum’s still beating loud and clear_ **

Grieg is far more beautiful at night - dusk, a little voice in Blaine’s head supplies and corrects - than during the day, and Blaine lets the beauty of the city distract him for a little while.

At a crossroad of Opuses, Blaine looks around, letting his eyes roam over the inner city walls and at the temples and towers standing in the hills in the distance, walls shining gold in the light of the setting Sun - and he’s hit by an obscure epiphany, an harmony like an arpeggio played on a harp ringing all around him.

He has to go towards them, towards the religious buildings - the Elvish tower in particular.

Blaine has never taken quite an interest in the supernatural beings that left their barren realm to try and survive on Earth alongside the humans, but he can admit that their buildings are magnificent.

Besides, it’s more than just a want to see them more closely - it feels like there is string attached to his wrist and is pulling him towards the highest Tower.

Like the source of the drumming still beating in his mind, still making sense of the notes in his head, is waiting for him there.

Blaine shakes his head to get rid of the trance that seems to take over his mind - even if his Power is more under control than ever, Blaine is not about to let his guard down.

Reaching the entrance to the Tower, he pulls his staff from his belt and lets it grow to its full size before starting the climb to the top of the building.

Blaine doesn’t know what he will find on the next floor, but if anything, he will appreciate the view over the city and the countryside all around it. That doesn’t mean that he’s going to let himself become a victim for the scoundrels that live in the vicinity - if they think that Blaine is a little, helpless Bard, they’re in for a surprise.

—-

**_As I move my feet towards your body_ **

**_I can hear this beat it fills my head up_ **

Kurt is standing at the top of the Tower, right under the Golden engraved roof that bears the marks of his People, swirls and glyphs that don’t mean a thing to humans - only a handful have the Talent required to read the Elvish language, and even less have the capacity to truly understand it - but to Kurt, it means everything and more.

In his befuddled state, as the _Sheket_ settles in his head like he has been meditating for years or like he’s a _Kosem_ , a bringer of spells, the comfort of being surrounded by a piece of home is reassuring to say the least.

Feelings his powers sparkle at his fingertips doesn’t make Kurt completely unaware of his surroundings, and a sliding step in the middle of the stairs behind him makes him look away from the scenery below.

If anything, the stranger approaching is only increasing the feeling of serenity and balance Kurt has been feeling ever since they settled down in Grieg.

A quick twirl of his fingers gives him a superficial reading - male; gay (Kurt files that little piece of knowledge for later); Talented, and mightily at that, Rachel would be green with envy at that display of raw pow- -

Kurt frowns. How can that amount of Powers reside in anything that a trained Mage?

His analysis continues : pure of Heart, to a fault; unsullied, body and soul; curious, intrigued — wary of what is to come.

"You’re an Elf," the Human man says, voice like sweet Dvach cutting through Kurt’s thoughts.

"And you’re very perceptive," he replies, using the stone barrister to lean on.

"I … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean no disrespect," the man says, a lovely brush spreading on his face. "You’re the first Elf I have ever met and -"

"It’s alright," Kurt interrupts, his lips stretching into a soft smile. For some reason, he feels like he needs to ease the Man’s discomfort, make him feel better, wrap him in his arms and never let g-

Where is that coming from?

“I’m Kurt,” he introduces himself, for fear of doing something stupid like letting that instinct take over, and to his surprise, the Human doesn’t try to shake his hand or others purely human greetings. No, on the contrary, he uses the common way of meeting someone, the way that has been admitted as the only courteous one for all the species.

He puts his hands horizontally and rubs them towards Kurt before smiling at him. “I’m Blaine.”

Kurt is pleasantly surprised, and he promptly returns the gesture, before looking at the Human more attentively, on a more basic level than his first reading.

Shorter than him, in a different way that most human males, Blaine is, in many ways, Kurt’s perfect counterpoint. Soft where Kurt is all hard lines, warm colors where Kurt is paler — added to the sense of completion Kurt is feeling, there is no more doubt in his mind.

Kurt has find his _Bashert_ here, on this planet, in this human no less - the person whose soul echoes in his, the one who brings him the Balance that birthed the Worlds.

Well, he didn’t see that one coming when they picked Grieg as their next stop, did he now?

“What are you doing to me?”

Blaine has to lean against the wall behind him, the patterns engraved in the golden ceiling spinning around him in a madman’s dance, a dance to the beat of the drums in his mind.

Kurt seems confused by his question, but there is something else in his eyes, something … soft and gentle, and almost caring.

“What - are - you - doing to me?” Blaine repeats moving away from the wall to take a step towards Kurt. The motion only makes the drumming faster, louder and more importantly, more euphonious.

Blaine can feel his Magic react to it, strumming just above his fingertips.

“I am not doing anything, Blaine,” Kurt replies, taking a step forwards himself, in Blaine’s arms reach. “But I do know what is going on.”

Blaine looks up before casting his eyes down, feeling like he’s going on a sensory overload. Kurt’s eyes are glowing in the shadows projected by the Sunset, Blaine’s skin feels like it’s on fire of the sweetest kind, and Kurt’s voice - it only seems to harmonize with Blaine’s inner melody, with the concerto of _Shir_ spells going around in his head.

As Kurt remains silent, Blaine reaches out, intending on making him speak up, but he only manages to brush his fingertips against the Elf’s wrist.

The touch makes them both gasp, and Blaine can only thank Kurt for slowing his fall to his knees.

For starters, Blaine’s breath is knocked out of him.

And for seconds, he has never felt so aroused, so fast.

Sure, Kurt has all the physical attributes Blaine usually looks for in a man - not that he has dated much, but he still has eyes - but never, ever has he felt so attracted to someone. Never has he felt like the only thing that could make sense of his life is to keep touching Kurt, and have him touching him back.

“Do you - do you feel that?” Blaine asks breathlessly, leaning against Kurt, only to get a second rush of arousal at the more prolonged contact.

“More than you know,” Kurt replies, wrapping an arm around Blaine’s back, sending a warm shiver through his body.

Following the impulse that is side-tracking his brain to mouth control, Blaine turns his head, brushing his lips against Kurt’s.

It’s electricity, it’s magic, it’s being in tune with the Strings that make the fabric of the world and like the essence of the Magic woven into it is revealed to him.

And then Kurt turns his head to deepen the kiss, and all thoughts of worlds and magic and spells fly right out of Blaine’s head.

All of his nerves are focused on the way Kurt’s lips feel, the softness of his tongue as it brushes against his teeth and oh, starts caressing  his own tongue, the way Kurt is cupping his head with his fingers.

Blaine wants them on his skin forever, and more importantly, he wants to touch him back for even longer.

He twists his body to get closer to Kurt, letting his furry coat fall to the floor, his fingers splayed on Kurt’s chest.

Kurt groans as they keep on kissing, his own cape joining Blaine’s coat on the floor with a dull sound.

The more they kiss, the more balanced Blaine feels, the more sense the drumming makes in his head.

-

The more they kiss, the more at ease Kurt feels, the more sense the _Sheket_ makes in his body.

Of all the partners that have crossed Kurt’s path - be it in this realm or in his own - he has never felt this way, this sentiment that he has found the one made for him on all aspects, his missing puzzle piece to make him complete, to make him reach for his full potential.

Kurt wants to discover each and every aspect of this man, and while he longs to learn everything there is to know about Blaine, now and in the future, he has a urge to attend to in the immediate one.

He needs this man, in the most carnal way he has ever experienced.

With some regrets, Kurt pulls his lips away from Blaine’s mouth, but only to start kissing his neck - delicious -, one hand cupping the back of his head while the other holds him close.

Gravity catches up with the precarity of their position’s balance, and Kurt has no problem helping it along,  lying Blaine down on the bed they made for themselves with their capes.

Kurt’s body fits on top of Blaine’s like they have been created to fit together, and Kurt’s erection is starting to dig into his breeches in an uncomfortable way.

The only thing that makes it better is the way Blaine’s own erection is rubbing against his thigh.

Kurt is just about to pull opened Blaine’s pants, his mouth still latched onto Blaine’s neck when Blaine himself throws his arms around Kurt’s torso and his legs around Kurt’s waist, pulling him as close as they can.

Which reminds Kurt of a little detail his body might have forgotten, but that Blaine’s definitely won’t.

“Blaine, Blaine,” he says, inhaling deeply as Blaine starts tracing a vein on his neck with his tongue, “wait - we don’t - I don’t have - oh Malakh,” he moans when Blaine bites down. “Blaine, no, wait I don’t have any lubric-”

“Shhhh,” Blaine whispers against his skin, making the _Sheket_ vibrate in Kurt’s mind, “Let me—” he dislodges his arm from around Kurt’s neck to reach for his staff - Kurt had not recognized it in its smaller size -, closing his eyes for a minute and pointing his elongated tool at a solitary piece of rock laying on the ground as he hums a Fm7. Under Kurt’s amazed eyes, the rock shifts and clarifies, turning into a bottle filled with what Kurt assumes is what they need.

“We’re lucky a rock got loose from the bannister,” Kurt comments dryly before swooping in for a short kiss.

“Let’s get rid of all those layers,” Blaine replies, working on unfastening Kurt’s armor.

Kurt laughs at how earnest Blaine is acting, before pushing his hands away. “Let’s — let’s each deal with our own layers, ok?”

Blaine starts pouting, but Kurt takes his chin in his hands. “Don’t fret, my _Bashert_ , you’ll get to undress me as many times as you want - it’s just that this armor is pretty special, and I don’t want you frustrated - on that matter at least,” he adds with a wink before letting Blaine’s face go to work at the knots and screws himself.

As he focuses on not making a fool of himself, he listens to the rustle of classical fabric being untied and pulled and sliding over what sounds like smooth skin.

When he turns back, Blaine is naked and reclining over the capes, and Kurt has never seen anything more beautiful.

-

Blaine hurries to undress, using his soft clothes to add layers to their makeshift bed, and he just has the time to lie back on it before Kurt lets his breeches fall to the floor on top of his armor.

Blaine has to focus to actually keep his jaw from unhinging itself. He has read about the beauty of the Elves, about how their bodies are not subjected to the flaws human bodies all succumb to eventually, but Kurt —

Kurt is more than beautiful and more than just perfect.

He’s everything Blaine has been aspiring to in his past encounters - as brief as they might have been -, everything he’s been looking for forever without even knowing he was looking for something or someone.

Blaine manages to stay still, only tilting his head up to meet Kurt’s eyes - only Kurt’s eyes are roaming all over his own body, and if the glowing darkness in Kurt’s gaze is anything to go by, the Elf is more than happy with what he sees.

“Blaine,” he simply says, voice barely above a whisper but full of reverence as he lowers his body down, coming to stand on his knees between Blaine’s legs.

Kurt’s hand hovers over Blaine’s legs, not touching but still giving him delightful goosebumps.

Blaine sits up, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s neck to pull him into another kiss, letting them lie down as one and gasping into the kiss when their uncovered cocks are rubbed together by the motion.

“Wait - just give me a-,” Kurt says and Blaine hands him the bottle with a beaming smile. “Thank you,” he adds, leaning over to rub the tip of his nose against Blaine’s cheek.

-

Kurt could do just that for the rest of this life: rub his nose against Blaine’s soft skin, but the need to have more, to wrap himself inside of Blaine’s and to have Blaine wrapped in him, is overwhelming. As Luck would have it, Kurt is in the perfect position - no pun intended - to satisfy that need.

Squirting some of the lubricant Blaine conjured - and that display of power stuns Kurt’s scientific side while it thrills his … Blaine attuned side -, Kurt quickly wraps his fingers around both their erections and tugs as best as he can. The position puts his wrist in an awkward position, but the pleasure he gets from it is well worth it.

The Silence is deafening in its intensity as he feels Blaine’s cock twitch under his touch, but he still has a tenuous grasp on reality, Blaine’s gasps and cut moans a music to his ears.

Kurt keeps one hand on Blaine’s waist as he tries different moves, different paces, a twist here and a stop there, just to see how Blaine reacts to him.

Blaine covers Kurt’s hand with one of his own, doubling the pleasure and guiding Kurt to the spot that give him the most pleasure.

Until he presses down to stop Kurt mid-pump.

“Wait, wait,” he says breathlessly, sweat already forming on his brow, “I want - I - …”

“Shh,” Kurt coos, lifting his hand from Blaine’s waist to cup his cheek, “tell me what you want, _habibi_.”

Blaine gulps, leaning into the touch before looking up, straight into Kurt’s eyes. “I want to come with you inside of me.”

Kurt’s eyes widen at the heartfelt confession, and he presses a gentle kiss to Blaine’s collarbone before giving their cocks a light squeeze and straightening up on his knees.

Without needing any prompting, Blaine spreads his legs a little wider, just to make it more comfortable for Kurt, and the Elf slowly pets the human’s side to give comfort in return, before picking up the bottle once more - no matter how much he already used, it seems to replenish itself.

-

Blaine wants to sit up to look at Kurt, to look as his fingers circle his asshole, to understand the look of wonder he sees on the elf’s face, but lying down, taking it all in as the drumming and the _Shirs_ get erratic but still canorous is a far more realistic option for now.

“For now”.

Somehow, Blaine knows that the future will give him multiple opportunities to meet his wishes.

Kurt is still teasing his entrance, circling it with two wet fingers, no matter how much Blaine wiggles to get him to move on with the program, and of course, he chooses the moment Blaine stops moving to huff in frustration to push a finger inside, pausing as he gets past the first ring of muscle to let Blaine relax under his touch.

He’s relaxed, as much as he can as he feels like there is a new string that is attached between the point where Kurt is inside of him and his heart, another string between them to wrap their respective patterns in a new, indestructible tapestry.

Finding himself completely unable to produce an intelligible sound, nothing above a grunt or a moan, Blaine simply nods at Kurt when he thinks he’s ready, and Kurt follows the non-verbal command, moving his finger deeper inside of Blaine, seemingly deeper into his heart.

Blaine loses counts of the number of reciprocating movement Kurt uses on him, a pitiful sound, between a whine and a mewl, escaping his lips when it becomes unbearable in its limitations.

Kurt seems to understand, the hand he still has on Blaine’s hip caressing and comforting as he pushes a second finger inside, spreading his fingers and crooking them until Blaine’s body arches from the ground at the bolt of pleasure that goes through him.

“More,” he lets out in a breath, and Kurt is only too happy to oblige, kissing the inner side of Blaine’s knee as he goes, adding a third finger and truly fucking Blaine with it.

Blaine is not lying still in this, bearing his body down as best as he can against Kurt’s touch, until even those three fingers working their magic at his core are not enough.

“Kurt,” he cries out, grabbing the man’s wrist, “please - more - you, I need …,” he babbles and Kurt slowly and carefully pulls his hand out of Blaine’s asshole.

“I’m right here,” he whispers, covering his reddening cock with more lubricant, and Blaine locks his ankles on the small of Kurt’s back as the Elf starts pressing in.

-

Kurt can say it with perfect confidence : he has never met a lover as responsive to his touch as Blaine, never touched a body as soft and warm and tight as Blaine’s, never wanted to fuck -

No, that’s not the proper terminology, as much as Kurt wants to get them both to completion as fast as he can : even if he plans on rocking his hips as relentlessly as he can muster - and that’s saying something -, it will still be an act of Love. Pure, unadulterated love, unsullied by pettiness and agendas.

What they share, what he has with Blaine already, it cannot be touched.

That being said, Blaine’s warmth wrapped around his cock feels like a blessing and a promise, and Kurt dives in the man’s body like a thirsty man dives into a bottle.

The metaphor stands, for Kurt feels drunk on the pleasure and the magic that is woven between them, their joined bodies as the center of the canvas they’re making.

“ _Elilim_ ,” Kurt breathes out, bracing himself as he sinks inside of Blaine once more, his body and his mind two separate entities the faster he goes.

-

Blaine digs his heels into Kurt’s back, even as he feels him completely pressed inside, making him feel more than himself, more than the Talented human he has always been.

His hands are wrapped around Kurt’s wrists, until the Elf lets out a moaned word, and Blaine reaches for more of him, for his chest and arms.

And his hand lands on Kurt’s pectoral, right above his heart.

Kurt’s heart is thundering in his chest, but the rhythm — Blaine is only too familiar with it, and he lets out a startled laugh, making his body rock in interesting ways.

Kurt’s heart beats to the rhythm of Blaine’s inner drums, and he keeps his hand where it is as they both move in a dance that has been rehearsed since the very beginning of the Worlds, creating an infinite circle between the two of them.

Kurt’s body seems to stutter in the middle of a thrust, and suddenly, Blaine needs more.

As close as they are, they are still too far from each other.

With a forceful push of his shoulders against the ground, Blaine manages to get enough momentum to wrap his arms around Kurt’s neck. Bless his soul, Kurt quickly holds him into place, his arms sneaking around Blaine’s back – one arm around his shoulder blades, one around the small of his back – and Blaine takes advantage of the new position to move his hips circularly, enjoying how full it feels to have Kurt inside of him, how stretched he is and how complete he feels.

Kurt rests his forehead against Blaine’s temple, affection and want pouring out of him in purple waves. Blaine looks at him through hooded eyes, and truly, his lover, his soulmate if he’s being totally honest, is magnificent, pulsing blue and deep magenta meeting Blaine’s inner rhythm.

In this position, Kurt can’t really thrust and push the way he intended, but his body actually welcomes the peace of it, relinquishing the control over it to Blaine with all his heart.

There is comfort in this position, in having Blaine riding him and being so close.

It’s finding his home in a hopeless storm, an harbor against a world that has taken its toll on the Elf ever since he left his own, but it’s more than that.

As Blaine lets out little mewls of pleasure right in his ear, as his body gets stiffer and stiffer and as his breathing becomes labored, Kurt tightens his hold on the shorter Human, helping him stand straighter to get access to his throat and neck.

Kissing and biting the golden skin feeds Kurt in a way no cheesecake and no victory has ever managed to, sating a hunger he didn’t even know could consume him.

It also seems to be the push that Blaine needed to let his orgasm free, rippling through him and deafening Kurt for a moment in the double sensation of the _Sheket_ exploding in his mind and Blaine’s cry of release ringing in his ears.

The increased tightness of the hold Blaine’s body has on him, coupled with the way Kurt feels like he’s sharing Blaine’s orgasm, only serves to push him over the edge. He tries to muffle his shout into the embrace of Blaine’s sweaty neck, but as his body tenses and relaxes following his release, Kurt feels like his cry of ecstasy is ringing all over the country.

* * *

“It’s been a while.”

Blaine looks at Kurt without moving his head from the makeshift pillow - he’s not sure his body will listen to him anyway - and his eyebrows raised in question.

“Since what?”

“Since I’ve been … so intimate, with someone,” Kurt explains, the tip of his ears turning pink.

“Oh,” Blaine says. So, as … magical as this night might have been for him, on so many levels, this was not as extraordinary for Kurt.

Some of his disappointment and his heartbreak must show on his face, because in a flash, Kurt is back by Blaine’s side, his hands cupping his face.

“No, nothing like that,” he says, his eyes never leaving Blaine’s. “Physical release of … energy?”, Kurt asks with a shrug, “sure, I have had those. What we shared?” he says, his thumb rubbing against Blaine’s cheekbone. “That feeling of completion? Never, not even a glimpse of it.”

Blaine smiles, trying to look down to hide his joy at that little piece of information, but Kurt pulls his head for a soft, if too quick, peck on the lips.

“But you have to leave,” Blaine says, and it’s not a question.

Kurt sighs, resting his forehead against Blaine’s for a moment. “I do - my … human will worry.”

“Your human?” Blaine asks, and the strength of the bond they established during the previous night is such that Kurt can feel his interrogation taking a worrying path, a betrayed one.

“I’m Companion to a Mage named Rachel,” he says, standing up. “Just like you have a magical companion - though you’re not a Mage,” he adds, raising an eyebrow at Blaine.

Blaine nods in agreement, pushing the covers off of his body. Kurt is momentarily rendered speechless : Blaine’s body is, if that’s possible, even more breathtaking in the early Sunlight that it was in the Starlight. Kurt feels his heart swell with pride as his eyes follow the path of lovebites and fingerprints marring Blaine’s golden skin.

A music score, an ephemeral trace of the symphony their bodies wrote. God, he never wants to stop writing that score.

“I don’t want to be left without you,” Blaine whispers, wrapping his arms around his adorably knobby knees, and Kurt lets his tunic fall over his body as he sits back on their makeshift bed.

“We don’t have to part,” he replies, putting his hand on top of Blaine’s. “We can travel together, the four of us.”

Blaine looks up at him, the hint of a beaming smile already on his face. “You think that it would be possible?”

Kurt’s fingers tighten, and his eyes glow in the shadows cast by the Tower’s roof. “I really don’t see why not,” he says calmly, “the four of us makes it safer for all of us to travel, we have the same destination-”

“Santana and I don’t really have a destination, per se,” Blaine pipes in and Kurt pats his knee before standing up again to put his breeches and his armor back on.

“Even better, and I can deal with an _Asbeel_!” he exclaims, looking at Blaine over his shoulder as he attaches the arming point. “Besides,” he adds, turning back to Blaine as he picks his bow from its spot, “now that I have find you, my _Bashert_ , I’m never saying goodbye to you.”

Blaine’s eyes sparkle in the Sun as he reaches for his own clothes. “That’s a plan I can get behind,” he replies, bouncing on his feet to get his pants on his waist.

Kurt tries to stop himself, he truly does, but he opens his mouth before he can get himself under control. “Speaking of things we could get behind,” he murmurs, one hand going for Blaine’s hip, his thumb rubbing circles on the part of the cleft of Blaine’s ass that he can reaches, as he takes a step to stand closer behind Blaine.

“Kurt!”

“Blaine!”

Blaine turns to face him, but Kurt is so close that the Bard is disoriented, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s neck to avoid falling backwards.

The simple touch hasn’t lost any of its power in the morning, and Blaine hums the melody that is born from the equilibrium Kurt brings him.

Kurt has his hands on Blaine’s waist and he’s smirking when Blaine looks at him. “You were saying?”

“I really don’t think I’m … up, for another round,” he teases, even as he doesn’t try to move away from Kurt.

Kurt shakes his head with a huff and a snort, but he does take a step back - though Blaine would bet a good amount of gold on Kurt muttering to himself something about getting things up in no time.

—-

"You’re different," Santana immediately says when Blaine opens the door to their room. "Where were you? You left me alone all evening, what is this? What’s going on? What did you do - ooooh," she pesters him, sniffing around him and surrounding him with spells like the mother hen that she is until she freezes and smiles devilishly at him. "Blainey Blaine you naughty boy, maybe should I rephrase that into ‘who did you do’?" She asks, poking him and tickling him until he lets out a painful groan when she hits one particular bruise right over his heart.

"Eurgh," Santana lets out with a snarl as she sniffes him some more, no matter how much he tries to push her away, "Elves."

"Got a problem with Elves?" Blaine asks with a frown.

"Nope," Santana says, making her flames turn into hearts, "they’re just so … Eurgh, when it comes to intimacy,” she adds, making the same disgusted face. “Too lovey dovey, so …”

"So human?" Blaine ventures and they exchange a pointed look before Santana huffs a laugh and comes close once again, passing her hands over Blaine’s body and hovering over his heart, careful not to touch him there again.

"You didn’t just fuck, did you," she says softly, eyes glowing like suns for a moment. "Holy Golem, you found your _Habeeb_ ,” she breathes, scrambling away from Blaine in the shock that goes with her sudden revelation.

Blaine rubs the back of his neck, just a little embarrassed that his friend can apparently read him so easily. “I think I did,” he admits, sheepish without reason and smiling at her. “And I want to go with him,” he adds, sitting on the bed and looking up to her. “But I … I won’t go if you don’t want to.”

Santana looks back at him, silent for a moment before she sits next to him and rubs her horn again the side of his head affectionately. “You idiot,” she says gently, “you really think I would stand between two soulmates?”

Blaine knows of Santana’s story, the story of how she became what she is today millenias ago, when the ways through all the realms were as opened as the country’s roads. How she was cursed to be a Demon for all eternities because she turned her back on her own _Habeeb_ , her soul lover.

How she decided to agree to a contract with Lucy Sussfeld, bride Anderson - who wanted to make sure of her future family’s well being -, to avoid rotting in one of the Seven rings of Hell because “it gets boring, after a while, torturing souls into oblivions.”

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Blaine silently returns the comforting gesture, and in a corner of his mind that got unlocked in the events of the night, he can feel Kurt’s caress in additional support.

**_As I move my feet towards your body_ **

**_I can hear this beat it fills my head up_ **

**_And gets louder and louder_ **

**_It fills my head up and gets louder and louder_ **

Yep, it’s going to take some time to get used to that, to that link, that String between them at all time - but Blaine wouldn’t have it any other way.

[[ _Scientists and Mages everywhere are still learning how the Worlds function, how they are connected and how they echo within each other._

 _But when two souls are resonating in a perfect duality, there is no need for science or research - you just have to let it happen_.]]

~THE END~

 


End file.
